Miracles or Medicine
by Tsubasa Hane
Summary: On her twentieth birthday, she witnessed a miracle. Not for her, but for two people she believed couldn’t deserve it more. Sakura's POV.


In honor of my turning twenty, I decided to do a **Naruto **one-shot. Now, logic would dictate I write a birthday story featuring Haruno Sakura, seeing as we are sharing a birthday today. However, I don't do logic; I do originality. This was a last-minute idea that came to me in a burst of inspiration while walking back from Glee Club rehearsal yesterday evening, and I was so excited to do it that I apologize it if seems a little rushed. I don't normally write so carelessly, but I was pressed for time and wanted to experiment with a slightly different style than what I usually write in.

I also hereby apologize for breaking one of the cardinal sins of writing: I, _Tsubasa_ _Hane_, am about to tell a story.

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**Miracles or Medicine**

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Internally, she cursed the weather for mocking her. How else could one explain such a clear, beautiful sky and sunlight that offered a blanket of warmth in such a bloodbath? What remained of Konoha after the first wave of attacks still glistened in the early morning after a night of heavy rain. The air smelled of wet grass and blood, to the point where she'd been forced to close what few open panels there were in the canvas medical tent to in an attempt to block out the senses.

That had been hours ago, and the smell of fauna had since been replaced by that of sterilized alcohol. But the blood remained. The blood always remained, especially when one was at war.

A blinding light struck her eyes suddenly as the main entrance flap burst open, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she let out a panicked gasp at the sight. Clutched almost possessively in the sandy arms of her baby brother was a very sickly-looking Temari, sweating profusely and skin deathly pale. She took quick note of the sporadic jerks wracking the girl's body, of the weak moans escaping her otherwise breathless lips. But what frightened her most was the fact that Temari's lips were starting to turn blue.

Poison. Asphyxiation. Hypothermia.

A plethora of possible causes wracked her brain as she instinctively ordered Gaara to place her on the nearest cot. The young _Kazekage_ obeyed without hesitation, and the sand flowed around Temari in a manner so gentle it was heartwarming before retreating back into its gourd.

She went to work at once, assessing the girl's condition as she dashed from station to station in search of proper medical treatment. She never even noticed Shikamaru enter shortly after, until nearly running into him in her franticness. Her initial thought was that he had been injured as well, but any further questions died on her lips when she saw the look on his face.

His eyes refused to leave the blond _kunoichi_'s semi-conscious figure, glistening with unshed tears. The rest of his face remained neutral, almost frighteningly so.

She didn't have the heart to usher him from the tent, as she should have.

Only family were allowed to enter, but one look at Gaara and she knew Shikamaru was just as much _family_ as he.

Seconds passed, and Temari's condition eventually stabilized. It had taken an incredible amount of will to ignore the queasiness in her stomach as she injected the necessary antidotes, but the girl's body soon grew still, breath evening out as blissful unconscious overwhelmed her.

Will she be okay, Gaara wanted to know.

Shikamaru remained silent.

She nodded, offering the best smile her profession had taught.

Temari was lucky, she explained. The needle that just barely grazed her right collarbone had been coated with a poison known only to a select few _mednin_. It targets the muscles, immobilizing them to the point of paralysis. Judging from the point of impact, she must have been suffering from the beginning stages of lung failure just before she was brought in.

Tmeari was lucky, she repeated softly, because a minute or two more, and the poison could very well have stopped her great.

Gaara's expression was grim, but he nodded in acknowledgement.

Shikamaru hadn't moved an inch. His expression was unreadable.

What happened, she asked him gently.

She saved me, was all he could say.

It took a bit more coaxing, until she eventually got the full story from Gaara. Temari and Shikamaru met up in the battlefield a few days prior, out of sheer coincidence. Ever since, they'd fought side by side and back to back, each looking out for the other. When Temari hade been too distracted to notice the assassin sneak up behind her, Shikamaru had trapped the intruder with his Shadow seconds before he attacked.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been the only one.

Temari pushed him out of the way at the last possible moment, getting grazed by a stray needle in the process.

We thought she was okay at fist, Gaara continued hesitantly. (Despite his highly respectable amount of calm composure, she could tell this was difficult for him.) But less than half a minute later, she started having breathing problems.

Within less than two minutes, Temari had collapsed.

She nodded in understanding, her attention turning back to the other occupant in the room.

Shikamaru's eyes remained fixated on the medical cot as he stepped forward, moving at a cautious pace until he was at Temari's side. He watched her with guarded eyes, fists clenched tightly to the point where his whole body shook. His eyes narrowed slightly before he abruptly turned around to leave.

A sudden tug halted his steps. Temari had managed to reach out and grasp the bottom of his vest with one hand.

Don't… she murmured weakly.

Shikamaru turned back around, and for a moment, all traces of hostility vanished. You should be resting, he whispered softly to her.

The reply came in the form of a weak moan, head lolled from side to side as she tried to shake her head. Her eyes opened only a crack, glazed and unfocused as she looked up at him.

Stay with me, she begged him. Her words slurred together as unconsciousness threatened to overwhelm her. She was no longer even aware of her own actions.

Shikamaru didn't answer.

Finding herself unable to move, she could do nothing but watch in regretful silence as the boy gently freed his clothing and turned to leave. He paused only once more, sending Temari a final glance before disappearing out the tent flap.

The sound of Temari's delirious sobs would haunt her more than anything she would see throughout the rest of the war.

**o*0*o**

The days passed at such as pace that they soon became a blur to her. She hadn't left her post in days, unwilling to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Left and right, the sick and wounded were brought before her, many of them long-time friends. Even a majority of the former rookie nine were admitted at least once. Neji and Tenten had been ushered in and treated together, the former clearly having received a majority of the blows in an attempt to protect his dear friend and teammate.

All of them were in and out within hours.

All of them had witnessed Temari's condition.

All of them heard her cries.

None had the heart to say anything.

Shikamaru hadn't been seen since the day she was first brought in.

She had begun to grow worried; Temari repeatedly cried for him in her fever, wearily asking for him during her brief moments of consciousness. It was true she was out of immediate danger, but if there was anything years of experience as a _mednin_ had taughter her, it was that recovery was as much mental as it was physical.

Her heart went out to the emotional pain Temari must have been experiencing, to the point where a part of her debated running out into the battlefield and dragging the Shadow-user back personally. Part of her debated beating him to a bloody pulp in order to do so.

**o*0*o**

The sun had just barely risen on yet a new day when a familiar presence made itself known at the door. In spite of the large bandages wrapped around his head, Rock Lee quietly slipped into the room with a warm smile. He hugged her gently, knowing it was just what she needed at that very moment, and told her that she didn't have to smile for him. He knew she was tired and weary, and that seeing she was relatively all right was enough for him. Then he did something that surprised her even further.

Happy Birthday, Sakura-san, he murmured softly into her ear.

_That's right. Today, she was twenty._

Blinking a few times, she squeezed her eyes shut and hugged him a little closer to her.

An ironic chuckle escaped her lips. Leave it to Rock Lee to remember such a thing when she, herself, had forgotten. Then again, who could possibly find the will to celebrate with so much cruelty and horror occurring just meters away from the canvas walls?

It would take nothing less than a miracle to make this day happy, she answered back.

Before he could utter a single word insisting otherwise, a second presence made himself known in the tent.

Shikamaru was covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. His face still held that unreadable look, but his eyes were shining. He was at Temari's side in an instant, gently taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

At almost that exact moment, Temari chose to stir from her sleep. Her eyes wearily blinked open before focusing on the boy before her.

Shika… she whispered, and moved to sit up.

He helped her without a moment's hesitation. One hand went to her forehead when she was eye-level with him, and he smiled in visible relief once he felt the temperature.

What are you doing, she protested with a slight frown.

You were burning u p the last time I saw you, he stated as if it explained everything.

The next few words between them were so soft she couldn't hear them from her position across the room. Shikamaru had turned his back to her, but the emotions flying across Temari's face were clear as day: frustration…stubbornness…relief…

For a girl who had been so ill up until that very morning, it was nothing short of astonishing that she could be so active and alert.

A length silence held the room, when suddenly Temari's hand made sharp contact with the left side of Shikamaru's face. The Shadow-user recoiled in shock from the blow, wide-eyed and one hand rising to nurse the now throbbing cheek.

What was that for, troublesome woman, he snapped.

She watched silently, too busying trying to stifle laughter to remind him to keep his voice down.

The pair traded off insults for half a minute before Temari, having grown dizzy from so much exertion, blurted out tearfully: Don't you understand? I'm not used to being so scared for any one person!

Temari's eyes widened as she realized what she had just said, before turning to look away. He, too, remained silent for a time, until one hand reached out. Gently, he lifted her chin so that their eyes would meet. The words were lost to all but them, as he murmured something softly before leaning forward so that their foreheads touched. Temari's cheeks were streaked with fresh tears by then, but there was no mistaking the look of pure happiness as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Together, they enjoyed the brief moment of solitude.

It was then she quietly ushered herself and Lee out of the room, leaving the couple to their privacy. Only when the flap closed behind them did a bandaged hand reach up to gently wipe away at the tears trailing down her own cheeks. She had unknowingly been crying as well.

What is it, Sakura-san, he asked her gently. One thumb traced the edge of her lower jaw in a comforting manner. What did you see?

Smiling through her tears, she glanced back over her shoulder before answering.

_A miracle, Lee._ _I saw a small miracle._


End file.
